


I Love You So

by saquashing



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cute GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Karl and Sap are here too, M/M, Not Beta Read, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wilbur Soot Is A Simp, but only mentioned, kind of, not edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saquashing/pseuds/saquashing
Summary: Sitting up straight, Wilbur cleared his throat, waiting for the current song to end before speaking, “I have a proposition,” He licked his lips, inhaling deeply as he tried to rid the uncertainty from his voice, “For George.”AKA Wilbur wants to hear George sing, and George wants Wilbur to know how much he cares about him.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 25
Kudos: 182





	I Love You So

**Author's Note:**

> After Karl's stream, I couldn't think of anything but them. Needed to write some fluff :)
> 
> Ft. I Love You So, by The Walters

Wilbur’s heart thundered in his chest, slamming against his ribcage and making it next to impossible for him to focus on what Karl was saying. They were all signed onto the server, huddled around the deep red stage. 

He had no qualms about singing, he had done it plenty of times on his own streams, that wasn’t what made him nervous. No, what made him nervous was the man in the other room, logging onto the server himself. 

They were so close, yet so far. Wilbur wanted nothing more than to leave his bedroom and wrap him in his arms and watch a movie. But George said it was last minute, that Karl needed some support on his streams, and god Wilbur just wanted George’s friends to like him. 

It was stupid, especially since none of their friends knew they were together, except Phil because, of course. They were both private, George especially, and he asked to keep it a secret until they knew they were serious. Wilbur agreed, of course, all he wanted was for George to be happy. 

But still, Wilbur found himself interacting with the ‘feral crew’ more and more. It wasn’t that he needed their approval, he didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought about his relationship, that was between him and George. But what he did know, was that George loved his friends, and he spent most of his time talking to at least one of them. He wanted to be a part of all of George’s life, not just the hidden touches behind closed doors and turned off web-cams. 

He appreciated how much George was willing to do for his friends. He never sang, not even in front of him, and yet he was still willing to come onto Karl’s karaoke stream so he wouldn’t have to scramble to find someone else. 

The idea of George singing made Wilbur’s stomach pool with warmth and anticipation. He heard the overly high-pitched falsetto, but even that showed his proper control of breath and knowledge of rhythm. Wilbur would do just about anything to hear him sing, genuinely, with all of his heart. 

As the stream progressed, Wilbur tried to make George feel as comfortable as possible, trying to build his courage enough for a small duet. What could he say? Wilbur was a theatre nerd at heart. He was the definition of a hopeless romantic or an ‘old soul’. There’s nothing he wanted more than to have a duet with the man he was falling helplessly in love with. 

He had already slipped up on Quackity’s stream, so he knew he needed to be careful about how he interacted with him. Pink painted his cheeks as he remembered the “George, my boy,” that had come seemingly out of nowhere, based on a meme he had shown him that morning. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning in embarrassment. 

Sitting up straight, Wilbur cleared his throat, waiting for the current song to end before speaking, “I have a proposition,” He licked his lips, inhaling deeply as he tried to rid the uncertainty from his voice, “For George.” 

At his name, George’s attention piqued, letting out a soft, “huh?” 

That small action was enough to make Wilbur’s stomach explode in a kaleidoscope of butterflies, his lips pulling into a grin against his own volition. He could clearly picture George, slumped in his chair, knees to his chest and half asleep. It was incredibly endearing. 

“We’re the only two European left in the call, yeah?” He asked, checking the VC, though he already knew they were, “Well, as a fellow brit, there is one song you won’t be able to say no to.” 

He heard the smallest of grunts from George, making Wilbur’s grin increase ten-fold. They both knew where this was going, as Wilbur constantly tortured his boyfriend with the song. 

“Are you a fan of The Killers?” Wilbur asked, fondness dripping from his voice like honey. Though he was usually confident, especially in their relationship, Wilbur found his voice cracking and his anxiety pulsing.

George giggled, and the now almost silent VC waited for his response. It had been clear they had been trying to get him to sing all night, but he remained stubborn and resilient. 

“I- I don’t know about that,” George replied, his own anxiety remarkably clear in his tone. Wilbur frowned, George wasn’t shy by any means, always willing to reach out. He remembered the day of the vlog when he went up to random people asking for ‘dog content’. But in the quiet VC, he sounded genuinely distraught. 

Okay, that was an exaggeration, but he did sound nervous. Wilbur’s smile melted into a frown, concern replacing his excitement. Karl was trying to convince him to sing, but the last thing Wilbur wanted was to make George uncomfortable. As much as he wanted to hear him sing, his boundaries came first. 

“It’s okay,” Wilbur interrupted, trying, and failing, to keep the disappointment from clouding the conversation, “You don’t want to sing with me, that’s fine. I don’t want to pressure you.” 

They eventually settled on Sapnap joining him and George. Wilbur hoped it made him feel more at ease. 

The song progressed, and beneath George’s falsetto, he swore he could hear the slightest bit of effort. _He was trying_. Wilbur almost died from the overwhelming burst of affection then and there. 

Soon, the stream ended, and they bid their goodbyes. Wilbur stood from his chair, grabbing his guitar and getting ready to put it away when his door opened, George stepping inside. 

* * *

George had heard Wilbur’s voice many times before, in the mornings while he cooked, in the shower, hell, he played _Your City Gave Me Asthma_ on repeat while he edited. But there was something about sitting in Wilbur’s apartment, in his hoodie, with his soft voice and giggles echoing through both the hallway and his headset. 

It was extraordinary comforting, wrapping him like a blanket and suffocating him with his warmth. Though he wasn’t complaining. 

He knew how much Wilbur appreciated the smaller things, the more intimate sides that George tended to not show anyone else. He wanted to sing in front of Wilbur, he really did, but it was like an invisible border in his head, keeping him from doing so. Like when he did, there was no going back, and their relationship would be _real_. 

George wasn’t afraid of commitment, he swore he wasn’t, but he could feel himself growing more attached to Wilbur with each kiss. Quite frankly, he knew he was falling fast, and it terrified him. 

If he let go of his boundaries, there was nothing stopping him from giving every little part of himself to Wilbur. It scared him more than anything. 

He knew Wilbur would never hurt him, he was far too kind for that, always doing what he felt was best. He brought George food when he was busy editing. After streams he would pull him into his embrace, his head burrowing into the crook of his neck, kissing away all of his troubles and making him feel like he was the most important person in the world. 

George swallowed thickly, bracing himself for karaoke. Karl’s original group had some scheduling issues, and he needed last-minute fill-ins, hence his and Wilbur’s appearances. He knew Karl wouldn’t pressure him to sing, he was excellent about respecting his boundaries when he asked, but with Wilbur in the call, the small, prideful part of him wanted to do something that would keep his attention on him. 

The songs passed by quickly, each one building anticipation within him that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. That’s when Wilbur called him out, directly, asking him to duet. 

He wanted to, man did he want to. But it wasn’t just them, or even just their friends, there were almost 200k people eager to clip it and ship it. He would never live it down. 

“I- I don’t know about that,” His breath shuddered as he chewed on his fingernails, an anxious tic he picked up accidentally a few months prior and hadn’t been able to shake. Whenever Wilbur noticed, he always enveloped his hands in his own, before kissing his knuckles. George’s lips pulled into a small smile as he thought about it, his hands settling in his lap. 

That small smile died, however, when he heard Wilbur’s very audible disappointment. It rang through George’s head, making its way down his chest and settling in his stomach like acid. He fought the urge to go straight to Wilbur and make it clear that it wasn’t him, and that he was just nervous. 

He brought his hand back to his mouth. 

The stream ended fairly quickly, it going by in a blur as George was lost in his head, drowning under the weight of his thoughts. The very idea of Wilbur being upset by something he did hurt him far more than he liked to admit. As soon as Karl hosted Sapnap, he shot off a message saying he couldn’t make it and went to Wilbur’s room. 

Opening the door, he saw Wilbur leaning down to put his guitar away, raising his eyes when he heard the door open and giving him a warm smile. George inhaled sharply, speaking before he could talk himself out of it. 

“Don’t put that away,” He said sharply, sitting on the foot of Wilbur’s bed, his fingertips padding against the soft fabric of his duvet. Wilbur raised an eyebrow, but he picked his guitar back up and sat back in his chair, waiting for George’s next instruction. 

“Play the song,” He mumbled, cheeks growing hot. He would hate to see his reflection right then, as he knew that he probably resembled the complexion of a glass of Pinot Noir, “The one you always sing to me when you think I’m asleep.” 

Wilbur’s mouth fell open, his own cheeks growing pink as he realized George heard his serenades in the darkness of his room. He cleared his throat, readjusting his hold on the guitar and softly strumming the first few notes. 

George coughed slightly, licking his lips and looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact, “I just need someone in my life to give it structure-” He sang softly, closing his eyes, “To handle all the selfish ways I spend my time without her.” 

His voice picked up volume as he sang, and he didn’t miss the way Wilbur gasped as he continued, “-But I love you, so,” He continued, forcing his eyes open and raising them to meet Wilburs, who seemed breathless. 

George swore he could see tears pooling in Wilbur’s warm eyes, and soon he joined him, his voice soft, letting George’s take over. 

His own eyes felt hot with unshed tears, his chest felt warm, and he tried to convey with every note just how much he meant the words he was singing, “- I love you, so,” his voice broke slightly as they sang the last line of the chorus. Wilbur let the note die in the air, before standing suddenly, laying his guitar against his desk as he moved closer to George. 

Large hands wrapped around George’s head, thumbs rubbing soft circles on his cheeks, wiping away his stray tears. Wilbur was staring down at him like he was the most important thing in his life, like he was the sun and the moon and all the constellations in the night sky. 

That’s when he finally leaned in and kissed him, his soft lips pressing against his own, moving together in tandem. The contact left George breathless, his own hands flying to the back of Wilbur’s head, fingertips running through his hair as he pulled him impossibly closer. 

When they finally broke away, panting and gasping for breath, George leaned his head against Wilbur’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Wilbur laid gentle kisses on the tops of his head, and for a moment, neither said a word. 

Eventually, George looked back up, as nervous as he was, he needed Wilbur to know he was genuine, “I meant it,” he said, referring to the lyrics in the song’s chorus. 

Wilbur smiled, running his hands over his back, his eyes shining with adoration George only dreamt of. He didn’t need George to tell him again, he knew. 

“I did too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Georgebur fans I love you <3
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @SlushiesForCar


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